


Oathbreaker

by Anonymous



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Assassination Attempt(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, can be read as platonic or romantic, it's kind of self-indulgent garbage sorry, no betas we die like noctis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23505028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Gladiolus once made a promise to protect Noctis with his life and to always be at his side as Noctis' shield.But tonight, he isn't there, and the consequences are dire.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 3
Kudos: 89
Collections: Anonymous





	Oathbreaker

**Author's Note:**

> haha this is poorly written sorry i was in a mood

The party was supposed to be awful and boring— as these ones always were. Noctis would show up, schmooze some overbearing nobles for a few hours, and then go home. Sure, maybe he’d get some drama with some crownsguard proposing to someone’s daughter or— six forbid—  _ him _ , but it was far more likely that nothing in particular would happen and Noctis would spend any moment of freedom texting Prompto about how bored he was.

The party was  _ supposed _ to be awful and boring. And then Noctis heard— so much louder in Noctis’ ears than the steady murmur of the crowd— the sound of a gun being clipped. Noctis’ head swiveled towards the source of the sound, a fucking  _ crownsguard _ of all people, doing the absolute opposite of his job and aiming a gun right at the king— right at Noctis’ dad.

Without even really thinking about it, Noctis was summoning a dagger into his hand, flinging it at the shooter and warping after the weapon. He landed against the man, dagger buried into the guy’s shoulder and causing the aim of the gun to veer up, shooting at the wall and ceiling. The sound of bullets causes a sudden hush, and in the seconds afterward, everything devolves into chaos.

“ _ For Niflheim! _ ” someone yells, and then there’s another round of bullets. Noctis can hear them ricocheting off of a barrier, and knows his dad’s safe. Instead, he tears the dagger down and out of the traitor crownsguard’s shoulder, jumping back and switching from a dagger to the engine blade.

The man attempts to shoot at Noctis, but it’s pathetically easy to bring up his own barrier and stop them. Instead, the traitor tosses his gun to the side, pulling out his own sword. The two of them clash with a shriek of metal, and Noctis channels every one of his training sessions with Gladio.

Strike, block, parry, strike. Noctis falls into a sort of rhythm, and soon enough gets in a hit that has the guy stumbling back. Unwilling to just  _ kill _ the traitor, Noctis moves in and slams the butt of the sword into the guy’s head. He crumples to the floor, and Noctis allows himself to relax for a moment.

A moment’s all it takes, however, for everything to go to hell. A sudden pain stabs into him in the form of a knife in his unguarded back— right in the center of his old scar from the Marilith and right in the center of the pain that always radiates from his back. Something burns with the stab and Noctis realizes he’s been poisoned. As he falls to his knees, he looks over his shoulder.

There’s something so very wrong about his back being unguarded, Noctis thinks, but for some reason, he can’t remember why that is. Noctis twists around and catches the dagger in his bare hand as his assailant attempts to stab him again. Noctis is on the ground now, straining to keep a dagger from plunging down into his neck.

His back burns with an almighty fire and as tears pool in his eyes, Noctis belatedly remembers that Gladio had skipped the banquet tonight. His hands, slippery with blood, lose their grip on the knife, and it pitches downward.

—

Gladio should be at the stupid party with Noctis. He knows that, as the future shield of the king, he should start getting used to having to tail his own royal around during the dullest of events. Still, he was given the chance to opt out of this, and he took it. Yeah, maybe he was being stupid, but Gladio wanted to go to those stupid parties about as much as Noctis did.

He’d received two texts from Noctis thus far, and would no doubt get more as the night went on. With a sigh, he settled onto his couch and picked a book from the few sitting on the coffee table. As he thumbed through the story he’d read time and time again, Gladio found himself losing track of time. He was at the climax of the story— the princess fighting for her life against assassins— when he was startled out of the story by his phone going off.

His dad, who was still supposed to be with king Regis at the stupid party, Gladio acknowledges as he answers with a, “Yeah?”

“Gladiolus,” his dad started, and it had Gladio stiffening, “Something’s happened.” Gladio drops the book and nearly drops his phone in his hurry to stand up and race to the exit. The only reason Clarus would contact him with  _ those _ specific words during a political event was if— well—  _ something happened _ .

“Noct?” he asks, fear bleeding into his voice. His dad sighs, a tired and shaky thing that makes Gladio curse in frustration at himself.

“There was an attack,” Clarus explains, “A crownsguard went rogue. He attempted to take out the king but failed. Unfortunately, Noctis was caught in the crossfire. He got out of surgery a few minutes ago. I’ll explain more when you get here.” Gladio makes an affirmative noise and hangs up. He’s already in the car and probably breaking a few traffic laws in his hurry to get to the Citadel.

Security is tight, but Gladio eventually makes it through and meets his father outside the Citadel hospital. Clarus nods at his son and guides him through the halls.

“He did good, all things considered,” Clarus starts, calm despite the circumstances, “Noctis spotted the attackers before anyone else and stopped something much worse from happening. He took out one before—” here, Clarus pauses, averting his eyes. Gladio frowns at the sight.

“Before?” he prompts. Clarus looks back at him, and there’s steel in his eyes.

“Noctis took a knife to the back,” Clarus explains, and it hurts to hear so much more than Gladio thought it would. “The knife was poisoned and Noctis collapsed. The attacker attempted to stab him again and Noctis stopped him for a short period of time, but nobody could get to him in time to stop him from taking a blow to his throat.” Gladio hisses in sympathy, and guilt claws him up inside.

“No major arteries were cut, and no complication occurred during surgery. He’s alright now.” Clarus sighs. “Still, you should’ve been there.” Gladio flinches at the words. It’s true, he should’ve been there. he was Noct’s shield— the person trained from birth to  _ protect _ him— and he’d failed his one job by not being there when it mattered.

“You’re lucky,” Clarus murmurs, “That it’s Noctis who decides your fate. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t even be here.” Gladio looks away from his father, tears stinging underneath his eyes. Clarus is right, and Gladio knows it. He’s messed up big time and can only pray that Noctis has it in him to forgive Gladio.

Clarus pushes open the door to the room Noctis is in, and Gladio sucks in a deep breath at the sight. Noctis sits, hunched over in his bed, one hand clasped by his father, the other lying still in his lap. Both of his hands are wrapped in bandages and so is his neck. There’s a disconcerting amount of blood around the collar of his shirt and it streaks down the front. Noctis glances up at the sound of the door opening, and his eyes brighten at the sight of Gladio.

“H-hey, big guy,” Noctis greets, his voice shaky. There’s a hesitant smile on his face, and Gladio is positive he doesn’t deserve it. He approaches the bed Noctis is sitting on, and his charge weakly reaches out to him. Gladio takes Noctis’ hand and out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Regis stand and usher Clarus out of the room. Left alone with his charge, Gladio leans forward and lets his forehead rest on Noctis’.

“Noct, I—” Gladio pauses as his voice cracks before pushing on, “I’m  _ so _ sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you.” Noctis hums softly.

“Gladio, it’s fine,” Noctis insists, “I’m alive and I’m here. You don’t have to feel guilty about it.” Gladio gives a small, frustrated huff.

“I should’ve been there, though. I should’ve been there to watch your back and—” Gladio’s cut off by Noctis shushing him.

“I don’t hold it against you,” Noctis says, “How could you have known? I’ve been to  _ hundreds _ of events like this and nothing’s ever happened, so why would anything happen now?”

“I still should have gone in case something happened— which it  _ did _ —”

“ _ Gladio _ ,” Noctis says in an exasperated voice. He reaches up with his free hand to wrap around Gladio’s. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“It  _ was _ —” Gladio persists, “I took an oath— I made a promise to you that I’d protect you when it mattered. And I wasn’t there tonight. I’m— I’m an—”

“Gladio, the only one who can declare you an oathbreaker is  _ me  _ because  _ I’m  _ the one who accepted your oath.” Noctis pulls back to look Gladio in the eye. “And I can say that you aren’t an oathbreaker. You’re still my shield.”

Gladio didn’t argue further. Noctis had obviously made up his mind. Still, Gladio felt shame curl in his stomach. Maybe he wasn’t an oathbreaker, but he had broken a promise. How Noctis still trusted him was anyone’s guess.

“Ignis is gonna be pissed when he finds out,” Gladio jokes. Noctis huffs.

“I’ve already gotten a few voicemails from him,” Noctis admits, and Gladio winces in sympathy. He was talking more about himself, but Ignis’ mothering was almost as bad as his fury.

“My condolences,” Gladio murmured, tightening his grip on Noctis’ hand.

**Author's Note:**

> is it obvious that i don't know how to write endings? because i don't know how to write endings.


End file.
